just because he's different :: l.s.

Chapter 7

LOUIS' POV

I wake up to the sound of a text alert from my phone that is placed beside my head. I open my eyes, rubbing at them in a dazed way, clicking the on/off button of my phone.

It's 6:00 in the morning and I can't help but adorn the smile I have slicked upon my face. I swipe the screen of my phone, opening up my inbox.

Harry: Hello, wonderful. I am going to pick you up from your house to take you to school at around 6:30. See you soon, love.

I pierce my bottom lip with my two front teeth and try to hold back the butterflies that flutter in my stomach when I read that he had called me wonderful and love. I re-read the message a few times, before replying.

Me: Hi. Um, does my mum know? She usually takes me....to school.

I get another message a few moments later, the familiar text tone ringing through my ears.

Harry: Yes. I spoke to her last night, after you fell asleep, and before I left. And did you know you look absolutely adorable when you are sleeping?

I feel my face cauterize up and my eyes broaden when I see that he thinks I'm adorable when I sleep.

Nobody has ever called me adorable in all the years I have lived upon this earth. Not even my mum. She would always call me handsome, which I don't like. I always prefer being called pretty or cute or....adorable.

Harry has been the first person, out of home, to actually care. I actually trust him. It feels outstanding.

I slip from under the duvet, standing at my closet and opening the sliding doors. I pick out a lilac sweater and a pair of blue jeans, setting them down on my unmade bed. I slip my grey shirt from my torso and position myself in front of the stand up mirror that sits against my wall.

I drag my fingers along each rib of my body, frowning. I've always disliked my body. I think I'm too skinny, and that's the reason why I've always worn big and heavy sweaters. To cover up my skeletal figure.

I let out a suspiration, trying not to desert too much time as I get appareled into the outfit I had chosen. Afterwards, I go back into my closet, uncovering a flower crown and positioning it in my hair.

I look at the time and see that it's 6:25 so I put a pair of socks on and pink Vans that have purple laces, grabbing my books and phone.

I pass downstairs, into the living room, and set myself down on the sofa, where I hear another text tone. I click the on/off button and swipe to find I have another message from Harry.

Harry: Hey, running a little...early. I'm out front now. Can't wait to see you. :)

I grimace and get up from the couch, making my way to the door, where I turn the knob. Opening the door, I find myself staring at Harry's black Range Rover, his tinted windows rolled up to where I can't see him.

I walk to the car and a flower child-like Harry tracks from the exposed car door.

I heave lowly, looking at his hair. "You actually wore it." I breathe.

He chuckles, giving me a vast hug, adjoining his body to mine as he clenches onto my back.

As he lets me go, I feel a soft kiss pressing to my scalp, softly against my hair. I feel myself blush, but I can't contain my smile.

And it's easy to tell that he notices.

I watch as he looks me up and down. "You look really adorable, Lou."

He enfolds an arm around my shoulder, bringing me to the other side of his Rover and opening the door. I descent inside and close the door. By the time I'm buckled, Harry is, too. And we were off.

Once we get to the school, Harry is unbelievably and unusually un-phased by the fact that he, the most touristed guy in the school, has to be seen with me and a flower crown on his head.

Why isn't he scared? Why doesn't he have the look of fear upon his face? Why isn't he just turning back and forgetting about the entire plan?

Why is he so confident and proud knowing that he's going to be doing this?

He turns his head to me, smiling and returning outside. He maneuvers himself to the front of his car, where he holds up his pointer finger, as to say don't open the door.

I giggle, discontinuing myself from opening the door, in which he does for me. He mildly grabs ahold of my arm, helping me from the car, onto the concrete, and into the parking lot of the high school.

After he compresses his door, we both form a path to the entrance of the school. Before he opens the doors, I can feel my stomach tear.

I'm so frightful of what everyone will think of Harry. I don't care about me. I'm used to being made fun of, but Harry isn't. He's so used to being loved. He's so used to being known.

And I don't want him to blame me for everyone hating him. Because I would feel as if it were my fault.

I inhale thickly, as Harry propels the double doors open, just as the bell rings, revealing his flower clad self. Stares from every pair of receptors land on Harry and I.

But it doesn't seem he contains any type of precaution on the situation. He looks so proud being with me at the moment. It probably feels great being the most popular boy doing something different than what everyone expects.

I put all attention set on Harry, who seems to only look down at me. But I can't handle all these eyes, this silence.

But he nudges me. "Louis, who cares what they think. You have me now."

I continue to look up at him, but my eyes are still full of shame. And it's effortless to tell I'm not, in any way, shape, or form, confident about letting everyone look at me, giving them the permission to give me stares.

I bite my lip, pulling my books close to my chest, the corners digging into my collar bones. I squeeze at Harry's arm, worry filling every sinew in my body.

It seems everyone has suspended their ability to speak. They're all gazing their eyes at us. Glaring.

Eventually, once we get to Harry's locker, the glaring and staring subsides and the hall becomes noisy once more.

Harry bites his lip, but wears the biggest, silliest grin as he looks down at me. "This feels great." he says

I thin my eyebrows. "What feels so great about this?"

"I get to be like you." he chuckles.

"H-how is that great?" I ask, my stomach twisting into tiny knots.

He pulls me into a hug. "Because," he begins, talking into my shoulder."you're beautiful, Lou."